Of Clans and Men
by Deadi1025
Summary: A 100 years after the fall of the Ancient Kingdom war has gripped the land. And before there was a king, there were the Clans. As they fight and fall, who will be left standing to pick up the pieces?
1. A Crow's eye view

The Clans of the North

On a light mist day near a shallow glen, the sun shone through its cracks. A faint call of horn echoed past the tall ancient stones of the old forests before falling hushed. A flutter of black wings broke the silence. A large black crow flew noisily, scattering its feathers amidst the grass as it perched itself on a branch of a petrified tree. Its beady eyes stood vigilant as it flapped its scruffy feathers in place and watched the scene that unfolded beyond yonder.

The blaring of horns and the thunderous sound of boots broke the bustling peace of the forest. The once plain valley soon swamped with hundreds of charging men in their armor with weapons at the ready. Banners waved erratically in the air, displaying symbols and colors reflecting their tartan coats. The earth shook with a loud boom as the forces colliding. Arrows and spears filled the air as the man hacked each other to pieces.

"You damned bag of pillow feathers!" the sound of an old woman emanated through the trees. The Crow lost focus of the battle and looked behind him.

"Can't you perch yourself on a peg for a minute before flying off about? My old bones be aching keeping up." The Witch emerged from the clearing, panting. She was an ancient creature, both figurative and literal. Old as old can be with white hair carried by skin and bones. Despite the age however, she still had her ecstatic spirit.

"Cry me a river you cantankerous hag!" The Crow squawked with a gruff tone. "It ain't my fault yea can't catch up. Dig a grave already woman."

The Witch gave the Crow a quick whack on the head with her cane. The Crow shrugged it off with a shake and flew to make way for the Witch.

"That ain't the first nor the last you get from me, deary" The Witch said cheerfully. "Now do please, shut it." She wobbled her way to the edge of the hill and surveyed the scene while the Crow perched himself at her cane.

"So. Who are fighting now here?" The Witch asked. Her poor old gaze could only see so far. She had to rely on the Crow for the details.

"Two big Clans of this region, duking it out on the final round." The Crow said. "The only two left, you know. DunBroch and Rul'Bar."

"The ones from Rul'Bar are holding their ground from on top of that hill. DunBroch are still charging 'em head on." The Crow continued. "The shield walls are holding but the attacking men aren't giving up. Not sure if they're brave of just stupid. Either way, their losses keep on coming and are getting pushed back."

"Ah. That one looks interesting." The Witch pointed out to a man that emerged from the forest. He led a cavalry charge into the flanks and clashed with the unsuspecting enemy. "Am guessing that he'd be the Chief then?"

The Lord of DunBroch was a large man with fiery red hair that matched his wild nature. He wore his clan's tartans with pride and draped by a dark green cape and iron helm. Riding his heavy horse with his sword in tow, he threw himself in the mass of the enemy. The man's strength was paramount as none dared stand against him. Warriors were toppled over and blown away by the swing of the large man's sword. The forces of Rul'Bar soon routed as the warriors of DunBroch pushed through with Clan Lord leading in the front.

"Right you are granny." The Crow replied. "That's Lord Fergus of DunBroch."

"Is that right now?" The Witch pondered. "Interesting."

"What's there to him?" The Crow asked.

"Oh nothing important so never you mind. I do say that the man is quite a bear." The Witch chuckled. "I just got a feeling that this man has the potential for something great."

The spectators watched as the warriors of DunBroch broke through the ranks. The forces of Rul'Bar were quickly pushed back and lost their recent ground. Panic struck down on the enemy and was routed en masse back to their camp.

The Lord of Rul'Bar himself revealed himself from the battlements. He was a tall man with a shaved head and a heavy beard. His face was stern and cold whilst riddled with many scars.

Riding forward with his horse and rallied his men through the lines. With his large axe, he charged into the fray and slowly pushed back the forces of DunBroch before coming face to face with Lord Fergus.

The two men met in the center of the battle. Their men made an opening in the field as the two Lords fought it out in a duel. Despite the raging fight around them, the combat between the two powerful men echoed through the battlefield. The Lord Fergus of DunBroch proved to be the victor as the Lord Rul'Bar fell lifeless to the ground.

Some of surviving men of Rul'Bar fled to the safety of the forests with riders on their tail. Most simply dropped their weapons and surrendered on the spot. A few were restrained as they tried fighting their way out.

"Well, that's the end of that then. That's one clan out for the count." The Witch said. She stood and patted her dress clean of dirt and grass before wobbling off back into the forest. "I'm getting too old for this."

"For what?" The Crow squawked. "Getting off from yer chair and walking?"

"Want to see how far I can throw ya, ye damn bird?" The Witch glared. She quickly brushed it off after a moment of silence between the two. She pondered as she walked through the forest. "It's just hard to keep up with all the action that's happening here. There's aught to be another way to see all these for ma old bones. Things have been getting very hectic recently."

"Makes you wonder who's gonna win in the end huh?" The Crow asked from his perch. "There are a few players in the game left."

"Bah! That matters mean little to me." The Witch brushed off the question. "I care more for who is worthy of carryin the crown. In the end it's gonna take more than strength to bring this land to one. The last Kingdom thought the same but others made a big mess out of it. It makes me wonder how this one would soon turn out."

"After the mess YOU made you mean?" The Crow badgered.

The Witch replied with a snap of the fingers. The Crow was carried by its feet then turned upside down. He floated in front of the Witch and was hit hard on the side with her cane. The Crow was launched high above the air and disappeared into the forest. A faint thud was heard a few seconds later.

"Homerun." The Witch said with a smirk before vanishing into the woods.


	2. The Lord of DunBroch

"THREE CHEERS, LADS!" Fergus bellowed from atop of his horse with his bloodied sword raised. "THREE CHEERS FOR THE CLAN AND TO VICTORY!"

"DUNBROCH! DUNBROCH! LORD FERGUS! DUNBROCH!" Lord Fergus's men shouted in response. They shouted their lungs out, stamped their feet, banging their shields and beat their chests. As bloody and tired as they were –with some having arrows protruding from them – none could hold their exhilaration of having achieved complete victory over their enemy.

"What would ya 'ave us do with dese lots Milord?" The sworn sword, Alpin asked as soon as the cheering died down.

Alpin motioned to the defeated men. They were gathered on the corner of the battlefield, escorted by armed guards with weapons raised. They sat on the ground with heads pointed to the floor. Lethargic and fearful of their fates at the hands of their enemies.

"SLAY THEM!"

"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS"

"BURN THEM!" The warriors bellowed and cursed as they continued to tell of gruesome fates they craved to befall on their enemy.

"SHUT IT!" Fergus shouted and was obeyed with silence. He could however see that his men were fiddling their blades, itching for a taste of blood. Climbing down from his steed, he walked towards the defeated warriors. They looked at him in awe as Fergus approached them nonchalantly.

"Who is the leading commander here?" Fergus asked the Rul'Bar warriors after inspecting them for a short minute.

"Tha' would be me sir-, I mean, Milord." A man rose from the crowds. He was a middle-aged man with a near stout figure and a wolf's pelt draped around his shoulders. His tunic was caked with blood but nonetheless showed no signs of any recent wounds.

"You've got a name, lad?" Fergus asked after approaching him.

"Finnian, Milord. I was Lord Rul'Bar's Kaptin of da Guard."

"Hmmm." Fergus pondered. Thinking his words wisely. "You and yer men show promise. You wer disciplined and fought well. Ye actually came close in pushing us back, now didn't we boys? But we sure showed them alrite!"

The Dun'Broch warriors laughed at the statement.

"Hehehe!" Fergus continued. "I can still see that yer men still got some fight in ye."

"Yes, Milord." Finnian answered. He stood his ground as he said this and showed no weakness even when the warriors laughed. "These men I 'ave trained meself. Deys are de best at what deys do and would follow me orders to da letter. De finest warriors if I can ever call dem."

"Why'd you surrender den if dis are yer so called the best?" Alpin asked.

"A pick me fights well, sir." Finnian replied, unaffected by the insult. "A know wen am beat. Can't 'ave me boys die so uselessly."

"Is tha' right now?" Fergus said, showing a hint of being impressed by the man's word. "How about ye serve me and fight?"

Silence followed Fergus's suggestion to his enemies. All were stunned and did not know how to react to the absurdity, even amongst the Dun'Brochs. Some scratched their heads in confusion. Most were bemused and were at a loss of words, the Rul'Bar men especially.

"What? Why? We wer yer enemies, Milord." Finnian asked.

"It's because I know a good leader when I see one and the loyalty granted to it by yer men." Fergus said. He placed his hand on Finnian's shoulder. "And I know that these men would serve you better than they would Lord Rul'Bar. Look at them now if you doubt me words."

Finnian had no doubt on Fergus's words, as they were true. He had earned the men's loyalty by being with them from start to finish. Drinking, training, leading and being with them all those years had earned him their complete trust. To see them all fall so shamelessly to the sword would be a cruel end for such warriors as the end shown by the Lord Rul'Bar. But can he trust the words of this other Lord?

"Lord Rul'Bar was a cruel man and commanded through fear. Under his command, you committed atrocities that are too much to bear for your folk." Fergus said to Finnian and to the others. "I will not bring that to ye. Start anew under my banner and we shall have our own bloody adventures. And live, live long enough ta be remembered as warriors or be slayed today and be remembered as murderers."

Fergus's speech caused tears to flow from Finnian's eyes. Not just from him or to the Rul'Bar men, but to the rest of his own army as well. They were moved at Fergus's wisdom and were proud to fight under his name. Finnian and the Rul'Bars themselves felt this honor and so they bent the knee and pledged themselves in the service of Lord Fergus.

"Now rise as my vassal." Fergus said. "Raise as Finnian the Wolfheart. Now command yer Wolves under my banner and serve as my warriors."

"Ah shall hold dat oath till ah die, Milord Fergus." Finnian said with tears streaming from his eyes. "As would the rest of me men who will fight in yer name."

The defeated army all rose from their bows and were met with friendly hands from some of the DunBroch men. While most looked at them with contempt and kept their distance. The tension however went unnoticed as the rest applauded to their victory, of new beginnings and homage under the tutelage of their Lord.

The army continued cheering as they marched on back to their camp. The warriors were then greeted with a grand feast of their triumph. Camp followers and women followed and entertained the as the victorious men entered and scattered among the camp. Kegs were broke open and hearths were heated for a feast. Bagpipers played merry tunes and the festivities commenced. The Green sword of DunBroch's banner littered the tents and the flags of smaller Clans were waved proudly underneath.

Lord Fergus sat at the high table above the rest with the other minor chiefs, sworn swords and champions. Finnian the Wolfheart sat amongst them with a few of his fellow officers. They chatted and joked amidst the festivities and went about on their merry feast.

"Milord." Alpin asked with a serious tone. He leaned close to Lord Fergus as to avoid potential eavesdroppers. Though the noise of the festivities made sure that they were not heard, Alpin could afford to be careful.

"Are ye sure tha' we can trust dese men?" Alpin eyed at Finnian and the Rul'Bars. "It was not a moment ago tha' we were tearin each other ta ribbons and now we be drinkin with them. Is tha' wise, Milord?"

"Aye, my friend. I understand yer point." Fergus answered with a jolly smile. "But I believe in second chances and every man deserves it even if they were our enemies. They'd make better as friends. They after all almost beat us to a pulp earlier now did they? Hahaha."

"Aye, Fergus. But it wont be long before dey come pointin their spears at us when we come fightin on the morrow or when dey do get a chance."

"Do ya think I don't think things through, Alvin?" Fergus replied. "I know that they could betray us at any moment. That's why I am careful in how ta use them. I posted them on the far side of the camp, in the rear so as they cant chop us up in our sleep. As for tomorrow, they'd be the first ones ta fight."

"De Vanguard?" Alpin said with surprise on his eyes. "Why wuld we 'ave dem men fight in da front? Dey could turn against us before they step foot against deir allies."

"Aye, they could." Fergus answered. "But you forget that us Scotsmen have a thing about honor and oaths. Finnian is an honorable man and wouldn't dishonor 'imself by betrayin me. He and his men owe me their lives fer not sendin them to the sword. His men's loyalty to him and hatred fer Lord Rul'Bar would stop them from turning on us."

"Ah, now I understand." Alpin said. "And ye send dem to da Vanguard so that we wuld'nt take too many losses on de attack!"

"I didn't get ta be Lord of DunBroch just by swinging ma sword." Fergus laughed. "But ye make me sound like a villain with tha' statement, Alpin."

"Forgive me, Milord."

"Don't worry about it. Ye weren't that far off either." Fergus said before taking a drink of mead. "It is also because I know that the men also want to prove their worth as warriors to our cause. And a battle is the true test of loyalty fer both them and fer ours."

"Ye never cease to amaze me, Milord." Alpin said with a bow and a raise of a cup. Fergus met it in kind with a clinking of cups.

"SPEECH! SPEECH! MILORD FERGUS!" One of the men shouted amongst the crowds. These were soon added by more shouts that were asking for the same.

"Ugh…men...we have…uh." Fergus wasn't the keenest of men when it came to public speaking. He always had trouble finding the right words and always ended up stuttering in front of the masses leading to awkward silences. It was a mystery for him as how it was completely another story when he was fresh from battle. Fergus shook his head and tried starting over.

"We've fought the Murands of the Mountains, the Picts of the Forest, and the McClennads of the plains. Winning every battle at each turn " Fergus named his Clan's battles during their campaigns. The men applauded after every name. "And now, we 'ave come at full strength and beaten the Rul'Bar! And by noon tomorrah, the North will be ours!"

"DUNBROCH! DUNBROCH! LORD FERGUS! DUNBROCH!" The men shouted.

"Are we gonna stop at that though lads?" Fergus asked once the cheers had died down. Before the crowd could reply, he unsheathed his sword and stabbed it at the center table. "No! We will then sweep down south and gobble up the rest of them lots."

"We will beat the rest of the Clans still standing and win! DunBroch will rule the land as one Kingdom! Under one crown!"

The Highlanders went ballistic at the announcement with high spirits. They banged their steel onto their shields, rattled their spears and threw their helms at the sky in merriment. Their cheers grew stronger as the bagpipers played high tunes in reply.

"DUNBROCH! DUNBROCH! TO KING FERGUS! DUNBROCH!"

"Alright ya sorry, drunk galoots!" Fergus shouted back with hilarity. "Lets 'ave a drink then! To Victory for Clan DunBroch!" The men replied with merriment.

The following day the forces of DunBroch marched through the valley and made their way to Castle Rul'Bar. The men were high on morale and played lively tunes as the bagpipers led the songs and kept the mood uplifting. The Rul'Bar men were given a stripe of Dun'Broch tartans that were sewn to their old ones to show their allegiance. They raised a flag with a Wolf underneath their own banner of DunBroch and marched in high spirits as they itched to prove their worth.

The army passed by the field where they battled from the day before and witnessed the carnage that they left in their wake. Bodies littered the pastures and crows flew overhead. Small pockets of peasants were spotted rummaging the dead for any valuables but soon scattered at the sight of the coming soldiers. Broken corpses with torn tartans were picked clean by the birds and broken weapons were left to rot under the mossy earth.

The castle was soon sighted an hour later. It was a formidable fort based on the highest hill with stone towers and a large oaken gate. As weakened as the enemy Clan was, it would still be no easy task storming the castle due to its elevated position and steep hills.

"Prepare the camp at the clearing between the two woods." Fergus commanded. "I want palisades and defenses made first before the lodgings. Cant have the Rul'Bars to counter attack us with our pants down."

"Yes, Milord." The Engineers saluted and began the construction.

"Outriders, scout and surround the castle. I want you to relay any information on their movements."

"I don't think ya need scouting to know what the enemy is up to, Milord." The head outrider, Gideon said. "Something is amiss in tha' castle. Tha' ain't the Rul'Bars flyin tha' flag up there."

Fergus and the rest of his men looked closer to the castle after hearing that report. They stood aghast at new developments of their expected battle. The Rul'Bar castle, formidable and intimidating, was not flying any of its colors anymore. The Grey Chains of the RulBar went missing on the banners its towers. Instead, it raised the Griffon of Clan Forsyth.


	3. The Lord of Forsyth

The Lord of Forsyth

Lord William III of Clan Forsyth watched from outside the window the prize that he had just achieved. He looked in awe at the achievement he had recently gained. The once mighty Clan of Rul'Bar lies extinct.

Their impenetrable fortress was sacked. Their Grand Hall usurped by Clan Forsyth. The Griffon on their banner flew proudly above their very heads.

"How far we 'ave come." He said to himself.

It was no difficult task as the once infallible castle was hardly garrisoned with a mere 50 men at least. With a few coins to spare and an opened gate at dawn, it did not take long before the Griffon of Forsyth flew on the towers of the once impenetrable Rul'Bar stronghold.

The line was extinguished, the soldiers surrendered and the villagers were quelled. He achieved in capturing one of Scotland's most impenetrable fortress without losing a single man. This was Lord William's greatest honor.

But doing so had earned him the ire of many Great Clans, namely of Clan Dun'Broch. Lord Fergus's army alone outnumbered him 3 to 1, all tested and bloodied of many battles. He even had the remaining Rul'Bars come and swell in his ranks. William must admit that he was impressed.

A good leader and an even fiercer warrior, Lord Fergus would be a challenging adversary for Lord Forstyth. He might even outwit William if he wasn't careful. Though his officers claimed that the Rul'Bar castle is enough to hold back the Dun'Broch hordes, William decided on a different solution. Always thinking in an untimely manner he sent instead a messenger to parley with the rival Clan and waited.

Clan Forsyth was amongst the smallest and insignificant Houses that dot the Highlands. Their lands were poor, wealth was scant and their armies were a mere paltry as compared to the rest. What lacked in resources and manpower was matched by their cunning and wisdom.

The Clan was once just lowly retainers and advisers for more powerful Clans. They would all remain so until the rise of William Forsyth III. Under his leadership, the once insignificant Clan became a powerhouse and among the most dangerous in the North.

He exchanged a pen for a sword, brains over brawns and the background of a table instead of a battlefield. Through politics and complicated ploys, the Lord Forsyth dominated his crude and battle tested warriors. He was patient, an aspect that most Scots did not have. He bided his time. Always waiting in the sidelines as his enemies to destroy each other. When the time was right, he would charge into the fray and pick up the pieces.

In one such battle against the Mackay, the Forsyth were pushed against a corner and was forced to enter the field of battle. The Lord of Mackay thought better than falling prey to the Forsyth's plots and attacked. With numbers on his side and a tactical mind, what chance does the puny Clan have against him?

William, ever so resourceful, had them chase him amongst the mountains northern mountains. The large host moved slowly amidst the march and winter snow came blowing in. Supplies quickly dwindled and the men began to desert and starve.

Far from supplies, the Forsyths easily picked them off before defeating them at a bottleneck. Their numbers counted for nothing and morale was low. The Mackays were quickly surrounded from all sides by the Forsyths soon after. With the Lord of Sinclair falling to his death in the cold mountain, the army was quickly routed and surrendered.

With accomplishments such as this, the Griffon of Forsyth great renown as unpredictable and crafty fighters. Lord William III of Forsyth became known as William the Witty and became feared amongst the other Clans.

But as any great rise, it soon became an even greater fall. As of now, Lord William knew that the fate of his Clan depends with the meeting he has with Lord Fergus of Dun'Broch.

"Has he made his answer yet, Donnor?" Lord William jadedly asked as the door behind him opened.

"Aye, milord." The Champion replied with a bow. "They did so wid quite da style 'owever."

"How so, my captain?"

"They uhhh." The Captain hesitated. He was unsure of what to say next due to the oddity of the Dun'Broch's reply. Clearing his throat, he continued. "They tied the messenger ta a donkey wid our own banner. Their reply was tied to da man's mouth before sendin him off ta our gates. It says, 'I will come at the passin 'our but not alone. I will hear what ya will ask but make sure ya do it well. Expect a good clobberin' too at any tricks ya might try to pull. – Fergus."

"Ha! Tha's the Dun'Brochs for ya." William coughed in between laughs. "He be a warrior through and through but a shrewd Lord nonetheless."

"Milord," The Captain asked doubtfully. "Is it safe ta meet dem wid yer…condition and all? Is der no other way?"

"If there is ma friend, we wouldn't be doin this then are we? We 'ave no choice." The Lord said with solemn eyes. "Now 'ave the stewards fix dis place up. We 'ave a guest ta entertain."

Lord Fergus entered through the ramparts of the castle and disappeared into the hollow halls of the fortress. Carrying himself bravely as he entered the belly of the beast, he wore his Clan colors in pride and his sword at his side.

Behind him were a 100 of his honor guard. His most trusted and seasoned of warriors. All were armed to the teeth and prepared for any tricks that the Forsyth might dare to pull. The Dun'Broch Clan Banner of a sword in a green field flew with them as they made their way deeper into the castle. They looked upon their escorts with attention. Fingers itched between their blades and as Scots; restraint was a hard thing to keep.

"How'd ya like the new décor of ya castle, Finny?" Fergus joked as he motioned at the Forsyth Clan banners draping the walls.

"An unsightly feelin' if I were ta be honest, Milord." Finnian replied.

He and his men did not hide their contempt at the new proprietors of their old Clan. Though they switched sides in favor of the Dun'Brochs over their cruel overlords, Castle Rul'Bar still remains their home.

The sight of the Forsyth's teal Griffons fluttering overhead stems deep anger to the men. The Dun'Brochs felt the same though they think that they were cheated out of their rightful prize. The Captain, Alpin was just glad that they all had the same enemy and not each other.

"Never thought tha' this Castle woud eva' fall." The warriors said to one another.

"Wa' de hell, amirite? Pray me folks be safe."

"Probably be done by some trickery I tell ye. Da Forsyth be glib bastards."

"I herd tha' da Lord be a wizard. Can do magic and such. If 'e can do dis, we got no chance."

"HA! And I heard ya can carry a wheel with yer dingy but tha' don't mean tha's true. I only believe what I see and what I can kill and so would the rest of ye."

"Shut it lads," Lord Fergus intervened. "We're here. Keep yer eyes open, ye hear me? We be in the wolves den and old man Forsyth is known fer trickery. Now, whether we live or die today, I am glad ta do so wid ye lads."

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!" The men cheered.

Fergus himself pushed the heavy doors open. With his powerful arms, he sent them crashing at a wall. The Dun'Brochs entered the Great Hall with high spirits and displayed their banners. Their bagpipers played a loud and merry tune while the men banged their chests and their shields together as they roared of Dun'Broch and their lord.

The merriment died down abruptly as they came closer to the throne. The bagpipes wheezed out its last note. The men ceased their cheers and stomping. The banners halted its bright fluttering as the men slowed down their pace.

A look of confusion looked at the men as they saw what was seated on the throne. Even Lord Fergus, the Mighty, the Brave looked dumbfounded for a moment as he saw the Lord of Forsyth.

With a reputation of fear, the Clan Lord would have had a look of one of an imposing presence. He was called a cunning master, a wizard who sent great men to their knees and Clans to ruin. They were disappointed and surprised to see their unknown enemy as a grey bearded man, leaning at the side of his throne.

His eyes were half closed as dusk with signs of weariness. An arm held him up against his chair while his other held at his chest tight. His hair was disheveled and fainted near white. The Dun'Brochs saw him as a man in his prime and close to the end.

"I welcome ye to ma castle, Clan of Dun'Broch." William said in a slow monotone. "I procured it quite recently. From a common foe we both had. How do ye like it."

"More like stole it in ma book." Alpin muttered.

"A tad too shabby if ye ask me," Fergus said, ignoring the comment. "Would 'ave preferred it in green than in teal though, hehe!"

"I beg me pardon from me…diminished state." William coughed. "Times like these nowadays have never been oh so kind ta me. It never gave me a chance to clean maself up properly."

"And what reason dya have us barge in 'ere today?" Fergus asked gleefully. "As sick as ye are, ya could 'ave just waited a while longer. We could 'ave 'made our own entrance in a couple of hours, now do we boys?"

The men replied with guffaw of laughter. The Forsyth guards angrily laid down their spears and unsheathed their blades at the guests. The Dun'Brochs did the same and formed a tight circle with their Lord in the middle with blades pointed out.

"Now wha's this then?" Fergus slowly unsheathed his blade. "And 'ere I thought we were in the process of negotiating."

"Aye," A Forsyth officer spoke out. "But after we beat de livin' lights out a ye. No one tells off our Clan an' gets away with it!"

"Bring it, ye Goat Bastards!" the Dun'Broch's challenged.

"Enough!" Lord William stood from the throne with a powerful bawl. "Sheathe yer blades. Fer Pride or fer naught, Captain lest ye be sent ta the gallows fer disobeyin me. The same can be said fer the rest of ye, me warriors."

The Forsyth men obeyed and held back. One could almost here them grinding their teeth and eying red if looked closer. The Dun'Brochs loosened up also but remained in their shield wall formation. Lord William fell back on his throne in exhaustion.

"Pardon them fer that." Lord William panted heavily. "Scottish pride and all. Now where were we again?"

"In de process of negotiation, last I heard." Fergus replied. "Now make it quick. Ma hands ar tinglin' fer a bout after all tha'."

"Ah, yes." William cleared his throat. "How bout an alliance with me Clan and yours?"

"Wha'?!" Lord Fergus said in disbelief.

"What?" The Dun'Brochs replied skeptically.

"Whot?" The Forsyths said in bewilderment.

"What?" Lord William asked innocently. "Was it somethin' I said?"

The entire court was suddenly at an uproar.

The Dun'Brochs said their share of discontent and curses. They raised their voices and shook their weapons in the air.

"One trick afta' another, eh? We ain't fallin fer tha'!"

"I'd ratha face a horde of Dingwalls alone than put my lot wid ye!"

"Just wha' are ye sayin, ye old goof? We don' need yer help!"

Apparently, the Forsynths was not a part of their curious Lord's plans. They were as confused as the Dun'Brochs.

"Milord? Wha' are ya thinkin?" The Forsynths asked.

"Wha' ya mean we be allyin' ourselves wid those goons?"

"I ain't fightin wid them! No!"

"SHUT IIIIIIIT!" Lord Fergus bellowed. His voice echoed so loud that every bird got scared and flew out from the castle.

Both groups obeyed and held their tongues to themselves. They realized then that Lord Fergus had not said a peep after hearing the proposal. He did not even join in the mob and deny the offer. Is he perhaps considering it?

"Ye were sayin, Lord William?" Fergus said. "Pray, continue."

"Heh! Always the loudmouth are ye, Fergus?" William chuckled. "Anyway, tha's about it actually. An alliance with ma Clan and yers."

"And why would I agree ta tha' offer? Ye think me boys can't take on you or the other Clans here?"

"I don't deny tha' at all, Fergus. But doing so would leave yer Clan weak if not destroyed by the next storm that comes. I'm giving ye the means of getting the job done faster and easier.

As we speak, the Dingwalls boasts the largest of lands and are holding. The McGuffins gobbled up the south and are now marchin north.

The land is shrinkin, Lord of Dun'Broch and these are powerful Clans with mighty forces. If ye would ask fer a chance ta beat them all, ye be needin more allies and believe me, Am yer best bet."

"Ye want me ta be King?" Fergus was still skeptical. "Don't ye want tha' crown yerself? And why me of all people?"

"Look at me and tell me wha' ye see. Am an old man Fergus. Not a fighter as I used ta be as my bones start weighin me down. Me mind is also slippin day by day and I will not stand ta see ma clan endin like tha'.

I also choose ye because yer the best among the rest. Compassionate to his enemies, loyal and confident ta his own men. A man of strength but is meek—"

"Weak?" Fergus asked gravely.

"Meek! I said, meek. Pull off the hair off ye ears an' listen well. I ain't repeatin maself so pay attention ta me right now. Now were was I?" Lord William paused for a moment. "Ah, Damn it! Ah forgot now wha' I was sayin! Just ta cut it short, yer gonna be King and tha's it."

"Yer quite desparate are ye?" Fergus asked. "but wha' I refuse yer offer?"

"Then nothin" William said gravely. "Ye will be escorted out of ma castle and back ta yer army as was agreed. I also expect ye ta attack at dawn tomorrow and by noon; my men and me will probably be dead. But not afta' I kill more than half yer men and won't be raisin another.

Ye may beat me. I'm sure of it, but this country will be lost. In the end though, it's still yer choice, Lord Fergus."

"Give me a minute to discuss this with ma men." Fergus said.

"By all means." William nodded.

"So boys, wha' do ye think?" Fergus asked his officers.

"A mad one at best." Alpin replied. "Let's not get in the same boat as tha' senile fool. The man's lost it."

"Tha' aside," Gideon said. "The man ain't wrong about the other Great Clans. Last I heard, the Macintosh's are also on the move. It ain't tha' bad of a plan to cast our lot wid dem."

"Ye daft, man? Tha' old man be just playin us fer fools as he's known ta do. I say we strike now before they make another trap fer us."

"True, but-" Finnian started.

"Ye got no part of this, Rul'Bar dog." Alpin spat. "Dis concerns only us."

"By de time I offered ma oath ta the Lord Fergus," Finnian said calmly. "I discarded my oath ta Lord Rul'Bar an' became a free man. I den pledged maself ta da Dun'Broch cause. I am a Dun'Broch now til one of us dies."

Alpin gave a questioned look at Lord Fergus.

"I wanna hear wha' he's got ta say." Fergus said.

"Thank ye, Milord." Finnian bowed. "I 'ave no love fer de Forsyths and wud love ta cut em up as well as the rest of ye. But I know fer a fact tha' there's a bigger world outside beside dis enemy we 'ave in front of us.

As it pains me ta say dis milord, I agree wid makin amends and form an alliance wid dese Forsyths. We need dem. Show dem de mercy ye 'ave given us also."

"Ye yellow bellied turncloaked!" Alpin threw a punch. It was cut short when Lord Fergus caught it by hand.

"I can't have ye knockin out the teeth of someone with sense now, Captain." Fergus said austerely. "At least not without my consent."

"Aye, Milord." Alpin retreated. "Forgive me, Milord."

"None taken ma friend. Just keep in mind tha' temper of yours. Besides, with yer council I've come to me decision." Fergus said. Turning to the Lord on the throne. "Now, all tha' seems ta be in order. I accept the offer, Lord William. Who's the lucky lady?"

"You 'ave chosen wisely, Lord Fergus." Lord William smiled. "She by my only child and daughter, Elinor."


	4. The Lady Forsyth

The Lady Forsyth

She looked down from on top of her window and watched the festiveness that was occurring. The lights danced and she could hear the clamor of activities. It was all taking place a few yards away outside her family's castle. On a hill that laid visible from her room on top of the towers. Her eyes a blank. Unsure.

The people were tussling and bustling with activities in great haste. They did so with great enthusiasm and sang songs of great merriment.

Colorful tents and parapets blanketed the hill. They were assembled rows upon rows. Cook fires made sweet smelling flavors in the air of a hundred dishes. Above it all flew the flags of DunBroch and Forsythe on equal stands.

"Pay attention girl." Maudy snapped. "We don't finish up here, we'll be late fer the feast. It is yer special day after all."

"Aye." Elinor sighed.

"Just a bit more fixin' up." Maudy said cheerfully as she tied up the last knot around the dress. "There we 'ave it. Give us a whirl, deary."

Elinor spun around in front of the mirror and viewed the beautiful dress. It was colored in light teal with golden frets engraved around the sides. A white veil encompassed her head and a golden band

Elinor stopped and looked at herself in the mirror with a blank face. A single tear fell on her cheek.

_My, _Maudy thought as she watched. _I do believe tha' broke the ice around her. She is so happy now it's almost hard to believe. Why couldn' she be like tha' the other day?_

**3 days earlier… **

"No!" Elinor shouted with her arms folded. Her chin pointed high. "I will be a part of your plans. Not with this one, father. How could you?"

Lord William sighed not of exhaustion but of annoyance. She has been in a fit ever since he told her about of his intentions of betrothing her to Lord Fergus. He did so before leaving to capture castle Rul'Bar.

He had hoped that time by herself would have Elinor understand the gravity of the situation and accept by the time he returned. Apparently he was mistaken.

_As stubborn as her mother. _Lord William thought helplessly. _Oh, why are battles less complicated than daughters?_

Elinor of the Forsyth Clan was the 4th child of 5 and the 1st daughter of Lord William and Lady Erica. Elinor had the beauty & charm of her mother and the intellect & wisdom of her father. She was also the most complicated and difficult amidst her brothers. Though this did not stop her parents for loving her all too dearly. Some would even say that she was Lord William's favorite.

Growing up, she was raised to be a proper lady under the tutelage of her mother. An aspect she exhibited admirably as well. She also showed signs of an efficient mediator. She was also an active child who loved roughhousing with her brothers and engages in outdoor activities.

Her mother's death put all those good memories to sleep. The humble Lady died giving birth to the family's 5th child. The little princess who was to be born that day followed after the passing day. Elinor wanted to name her Mary.

The little girl known as Elinor soon changed after that. She hardly went outside, nor roughhoused with her brothers. From that day onwards, she became a woman. Dedicating herself to becoming the Lady of the castle, she managed it all well even at such a young age.

By the young age of 15 she could already name all the Clans, make a fine meal, pay instruments and could write letters as a dignitary. She even became a sort of a mother to her brothers and even looked after Lord William himself.

When the war came to their doorstep, Elinor did her best to aid the family in whatever way she could. Most of it was on the management and logistics of the castle. She even came as far as assisting her father's plots and took part in his plans.

But as the war dragged on and having lost her brothers one by one, she distanced herself more and more from her father. She then took no more part in her father's campaigns and alienated herself from him.

All she wanted now was to find a suitable husband and move out and away from her father. She did her best to look prim and proper for the suitors who came to ask for her hand. All did not last as long however as they left or forgotten her for some odd reason. A work of her father perhaps?

The final straw was when Lord William betrothed her to a man she hardly known nor met. Worse, it was to an enemy of her Clan and a Warlord of the North. She saw herself as a slave being sold to a new master. She would have none of it anymore.

"Eli, I'm dyin." Lord William said impassively.

"…" Elinor stopped on her tracks. The simple truth has taken her aback and put her at a loss of words. "What do you mean?"

Lord William took off his cloak and set it by the stand. He unbuttoned his shirt and exposed himself. On the side of his chest revealed patchwork of old bandages. It was encrusted in fresh and dried blood. A look of feebleness and fatigued etched his wrinkled face.

"Aye, lass." William gave a weak smile. "A lucky grunt managed to pierce yer old man through. The wound cut deep and through me armor. Even as we speak, my life slips between the cracks."

"A' 'ave made our Clan from somethin' insignificant to somethin' great in da course o' ma rule. I 'ave sacrificed a lot to gain all tha' we have today but I do regret all the losses on de way."

Elinor looked away for a moment at the thought of those they HAVE lost over the foolish wars. Lord William understood as much and waited til she returned her gaze.

"And now, wen we are at our greatest, I find maself dyin before ma prime." William said sorrowfully. "I may only live long enough ta see ma girl on her weddin' day. If she'd let me."

"You'd use this banter in hopes of changing my choice?" Elinor said with heavy tears running down her eyes. "How cruel can you be?"

"For me? Am I seen as a selfish father who cares not fer his children? It was never for me. It was all for you." William said solemnly. As patient and grave as he could. "I have no more sons to carry ma name. I blame meself more than most fer those losses. You are all I have in de end and I could not bear ta lose you. I love ye, child. But the future of dis Clan an' its children are in your hands now, lass. Are you about ta throw all of dem away?"

"Fine then." Elinor wiped her eyes of tears. "I consent."

"Thank ye, lass." William said. "Ta think I get to see ye in yer mother's dress."

Elinor ran to her father and hugged him tightly. Tightly, but careful not to hit his wound. As much as how they can't stand each other from time to time, they are still the only family they have. Tears streaked down her face and one from the dying father. One out of defeat and one out of despair.

…**Present time**

The wedding was to take place at the Stone Circle Hill near the Forsythe border. 2 days had past and the villagers made the preparations for the event.

Tents were set up, the cook fires were lit, offerings were made and the decors littered the hill with various colors and grandeur. The Banners of the Dun'Broch and Forsythe stood out the most as it flew side by side of the other.

Everything was prepared in due haste due to their belief that a full moon was brings favorable omens. To have the celebration amidst the Stone Circle, under the eyes of the gods, would provide fortune for the couple that wed or celebrated there.

The rashness of the wedding was also provided by to the current presence of war in their midst. Even as the festivities commenced, the Great Clans of Dingwall and Macintosh began marching from the South and from the West.

The celebration itself would be considered a small gathering. Both Dun'Broch and Forsythe sent off most of their men to stave off the assault and to hold current lands. Despite the situational need of an alliance, the two Clans still haven't made amends and are still hostile to each other. The merrymaking however made light of the situation but some were still unreceptive.

"Never really understood da use of grand celebrations as dis." Lord Fergus said as he watched the entire event unfold with Lord William. "Why can' we just get to da bed an' get on wid it? Saves us time and cuts expenses all de same."

"If ya weren't me daughter's betrothed," Lord William mumbled. "I wuld sure put ye up straight fer saying tha'"

Lord William coughed loudly as to excuse his outburst. Clearing his throat, he replied his fellow Lord's comment.

"I fer one enjoy occasions such as dis." William said with a hearty smile. "Always did like a wee bit of color in my final days. It be also good fer the folks as well. They be needin' shindigs like this now."

"Why's tha'?" Fergus asked in curiosity.

"We all need…distractions for keepin' our spirits merry in dark times such as dis." William replied. "People need ta be reminded tha' there are still some peace and color ta be found in a world blanketed red in war."

"Ya got me ther' Milord William." Fergus raised his bronze goblet in agreement. "As a' do enjoy a good bout, it tires me so ta take da life of ma countrymen. Even I tire of dis war."

"Cheers den." William raised his goblet high.

"We 'ave a Stone Circle ourselves back in Dun'Broch." Fergus said. "Not as fancy as yer bricks 'ere but just as grand."

"Dey ain't meant ta be fancy in de first place." William said. "Dey are meant ta be in honor to da spirits of de forests. Dis be a magical place. As de legends wuld say."

"Am not one ta believe in magic, fairies and spirits." Fergus said indifferently. "My time here taught me ta believes only in things I can touch or see by me own eyes and hands."

"HA!" William barked out a laugh. "Finally! Somethin' we two Lords can agree with. Dey say tha' when tha' moment comes, times WILL be a changin' fer the two."

"Aye-Aye ta tha' Milord." Fergus cheered.

Both men clinked their goblets and drank it dry to the last drop.

"So tell me," Fergus said as he wiped down the mead off his beard. "Wha's dear Elinor like? I've never met her an' am afraid tha' ye set me up fer some troll."

"Am not tha' kind of joker." William laughed. "She be beautiful as me darling wife (May she be in peace). But I do know tha' she be a bold one. She got fire in 'er eyes tha' can scare off any troll! HAHAHA! But she be a mild one I assure ya. She wont be a problem fer ya at all."

The merrymaking was cut short when a piercing shriek broke through the music. Looking behind, the two Lords saw a young handmaiden running towards them in haste.

Making leave for their guards to let her pass, the young girl bowed before them. Her breaths were in heavy pants.

"Milord! Milord William!" the handmaiden cried with urgency.

"What is it girl?" William asked. He waved his hand and the musicians ceased their playing. "Wha's the matter?"

"Milord." The girl said in panted breaths. "It's yer daughter."

"Wha' about her?" William asked frantically. "Has somethin' happened ta her?"

"Aye. Milord," The handmaiden looked at the lords with fearful eyes. "The young lady has fled."


End file.
